Father on Christmas
by TeamGwenee
Summary: Edith and Robert share two Christmas Eves.


It wasn't jealousy, it was just _fairness._ Last year Mary and Sybil both had two more presents in their stockings than Edith, and their big present under the tree were much more exciting. Mary got her very first diamond bracelet, whilst Sybil had a lovely new rocking horse. Edith got a hat.

Which was Edith had been incredibly particular when writing her list that year. She had painstakingly leant over her desk, making note of each gift she wanted. She then copied it out in her neatest handwriting and handed a list to Papa, to Mama, to Granny, Auntie Rosamund and then gave Mrs Hughes a spare for safekeeping.

She also wrote a very stern letter to Father Christmas, informing him that last year's events were _not_ to happen again.

When Edith woke up Christmas Day to see their stocking bulging, her natural sense of righteousness had her inspecting each stocking to make sure none were more filled than the other. As it was, Mary and Sybil each had one more than Edith, but Edith had one present significantly larger than the others and decided herself to be content.

But that was not all. In the Great Hall stood a great and grand Christmas Tree, beneath which waited a mound of presents. Edith slipped on her slippers and silently tugged on her dressing gown, stealing past a lumbering Mary and snoozing Sybil.

She pattered down the oak staircase, sternly telling herself that she wasn't scared, not even when the house was so very dark, lit only by the single candle she had stolen from her bedroom. It was all worth it when she finally reached the tree. She stood before the handsome fir tree, staring with awe at the cornucopia of gifts beneath. She had to be absolutely certain one of them wasn't a hat. Setting down her candle, she set to work. Rustling around the gorgeous wrapped gifts, she submerged herself into a nest of branches and packages, her feet stuck out behind her.

"Edith?"

"Papa!" Edith squealed in surprise.

Robert rubbed his eyes, red and sore from a late night's reading, looking down in bemusement as he saw his middle daughter sat amongst the presents.

"Couldn't wait eh?" he chuckled, scooping her into his arms.

Edith shook her head, burying herself into his arms.

"Well," Robert said sternly, "You can't go back to the nursery. You will wake up your sisters."

Edith looked down bashfully, only for Robert to tip up her chin with his finger.

"So, I think you had best come up to bed with Mama and me. Don't you?" Robert asked, face breaking into a smile.

Edith beamed at him radiantly, clinging onto her father with delight as he carried her away from the presents. She didn't really care if she got a hat anymore.

(Well, almost didn't care. It was still a relief when time came to open the presents, and she came into possession of a toy theatre.)

#

"Edith?" Robert yawned. "Just couldn't wait for tomorrow eh?"

Edith looked up and gave her father a small smile, pushing a large package underneath the tree.

"Just getting the last of Marigold's presents sorted," she whispered. "Bertie and I have been so busy wrapping presents for all the tenants before we came, and then when I got here Isobel and I had to finish up the last of the preparations for the charity Christmas dinner, as well as making sure all the presents we had donated arrived safely and checking with Laura that everything at the office was sorted, this was the first chance I got." She yawned, shaking her head apologetically. "I'm sorry, I have just been so tired getting everything sorted."

Robert strolled towards Edith, placing a fond hand on her shoulders. "I'm so proud of you darling," he said warmly. "You've done so well."

Edith smiled wanly. "I hope so," she admitted. "I feel like I still don't know where I am standing half the time. This life, I never expected. It was always Mary who was meant to be the Great Lady, and Sybil the modern woman with the career. Now here I am, trying to juggle both."

"And doing so splendidly," Robert assured her, kissing the top of her golden curls. "Where's Bertie?"

"He was meant to join me." Edith frowned, peering up the dark empty stairs. "He was just helping Tom get the children off to sleep."

"You won't be seeing him for a while then." Robert chuckled. "George and Sybbie have been so excited these last few days that I half expected to find them driving their poor nanny to distraction."

"Marigold has been the same." Edith nodded, smiling to herself. "I found her scribbling blue prints for a Father Christmas trap with her crayons."

Robert guffawed. For all that Marigold was quiet and calm in a way George and Sybbie never were, there was a spark of mischievousness constantly lurking behind her sweet brown eyes. If George and Sybbie were ever found knee deep in mess and trouble, it was probably Marigold who was the mastermind.

"I can't wait to see their faces tomorrow," Edith announced, taking in the great mound of gifts.

"Me too," Robert agreed. "And yours too, of course."

"Why, what did you get me?" Edith asked eagerly. She clutched at Robert's sleeve. "Tell me, please!" She blushed. "Sorry Papa, it's childish of me to still be getting excited about presents."

"It is," Robert agreed. "But I won't hold it against you." He knelt beside Edith and reached for a large parcel. "I only came down so I could sneak a peak at my presents!"


End file.
